


Only Because It's Your Damn Birthday

by QueenVee



Category: Minority Report (TV 2015)
Genre: Arthur for once is being a party pooper, College AU, F/M, Just because it's your damn birthday, Lara just wants to kick it, Modern AU, puppy dog eyes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-23
Updated: 2015-10-23
Packaged: 2018-04-27 17:18:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,324
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5057158
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenVee/pseuds/QueenVee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Modern Day College AU</p><p>Arthur/Vega</p><p>One Shot</p><p>Vega just wants this one thing, is Arthur willing to give in to her? Better question, can he resist not giving in to her anyway?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Only Because It's Your Damn Birthday

“ _No_ , Vega. I’m not doing it again,” His tone is grave, filled to the brim with irritation and angst.

They’re in his kitchen: him sitting on a barstool at the island counter and her standing across from him in an long sleeved thermal, his red boxer shorts, and a low messy bun. Her grip on the kitchen counter tightens as she lightly bounces on her toes in impatience.

“Oh _c'mon_ , Arthur! You’re the only one out of the three of us that not only has a fake ID, but actually looks old enough to use it!”

“You do know I have a twin brother, right?”

“Yes: a _fraternal_ twin brother. Who looks likes he 17 on a good day. And as handsome as my lovely best friend is, besides the blond hair and blue eyes you two don’t look or act a damn thing alike,”

“Thank you to holy heaven for that,” Arthur mutters as he slides out of his seat to sift through the kitchen for snacks.

“Arthur, you’re 20. Dash is 20. I’m 19-,”

“ _18_ ,” he interrupts raising a finger in the air, his back facing her as he searches through the refrigerator. “Still 18 until the clock strikes twelve, Cindy,”

Vega eyes roll skyward as she continues to plead her case. “Fine, I’m 18. And because none of us are actually 21, we decided together as a group - although through your heavy insistence - that at least one of us should get a fake so we always have someone that can get the alcohol necessary to enjoy our quote/unquote _high-rise sophomore year college party lifestyle_ ,”

“Wonder who came up with that terrible name?” Arthur asks as he eyes some leftover pizza suspiciously.

Vega places her forearms on the counter and props her chin into her hand. She watches him dig through the fridge with a bemused expression. “Yeah, wonder who?”

The elder twin shoots her a smirk from over his shoulder as Vega crosses her arms in impatience and starts to slowly advance towards him.

“Arthur…you’re the one orchestrated the whole fake ID ordeal, you’re the one who volunteered yourself as the resident booze runner, and you’re the one that just last week said that Dash and I were the Webster’s definition of lame. Now we actually want to use the damn ID and all of the sudden you’ve got a case of the “hell no, I won’t go!” ?”

She’s been pressing him about the issue for the past 30 minute straight and though she doesn’t whine - she _never_ whines - her persistence is really starting to warm his griddle.

That and he’s not entirely sure how long he can handle her bouncing and flouncing around looking so adorably domestic in his home, in his clothes, without him being able to do anything about it.

The thought alone only incenses him already rising frustrations.

Arthur grabs a Corona from the fridge as he rises from his haunches and whirls around to see Vega has appeared right in front of him, a determined expression twisting her delicate features. She closes in even more into his space and Arthur, never being one to back down from anything or anyone, gazes down at her with heavy lids and a wary disposition. Clearly she has no idea she’s intruded past the first line of his defenses.

Her lips are pursed as in an exasperated tone she says “You were fine with it when you dragged us out last Friday, what the hell changed your mind in a week!?”

That stupid football kegger they all went to last weekend, that’s what.

The one where she walked into his apartment like she owned the place in a crop top, flowing mini skirt, and wild curly hair crowned with pastel flowers.

The one where they pre-gamed a little too hard at his place and he held her loosely around the waist as they out fell out of his front door to stumble through the university streets towards the Rager on Gager.

The one where she was curled all around him like a cat in heat: periwinkle nails digging into the cuff of his arms, sultry soft eyes and matching smile looking up at him and only him, and he loved every bit of it.

The one where he randomly decided he was too young, too prideful, and too popular to sit up with just one girl for an entire night…so he ditched her when she ran upstairs to grab a beer for the two of them.

The one where he “accidentally” broke two speakers and a stereo system when he caught her locking lips in the corner with Will “Brown-Noser” Blake, obviously unaffected by his decision to…change courses for the evening.

Arthur frowns deeply as thoughts of that evening start to piss him off all over again.

“Nothing happened, minus you getting ridiculously trashed from an underwhelming amount of alcohol. I remember my first beer…,”

“The hell does that have to do with anything?” Vega snips, her chin rising in the air in challenge.

“It means that someone has to babysit your ass starting from beer number 1. And though I’m sure my baby bro would be more than willing to do so, his alcohol tolerance makes you look like a rap star. Which then puts me as the next sucker in line, and I’m not doing it,”

“I’m not asking you too,” the petite mocha woman responds, her hands falling to her hips as they cock to the side. “I don’t need to be babysat, I’m a grown ass woman,”

Arthur’s eyes rove up and down her figure appreciatively. There’s too many curves in too many good places, God help him. “I can see that…,”

A deep sigh escapes Vega as she saddles right up underneath his chin and places a small hand on the curve of his bicep. It isn’t the hazy fog of drunk seduction he sees in her eyes like the last time they were this close, but something much clearer, much more powerful, and five times worse.

He officially decides in that moment he doesn’t like her.

She’s too nosey. And stubborn. And self righteous. And stubborn. And reckless. And-and short. And stubborn.

So _goddamn_ infuriatingly stubborn.

He thought she’d have grown out of it by the time they’d hit their college years, but it’s only increased her hardheadedness by a thousandfold.

It doesn’t help that she’s clever enough to finagle herself out of any troublesome situation and is tough enough to literally knock the teeth out of anyone who dares raise a hand to her.

And don’t even get him started on face.

Her stupid face.

Her stupid, pretty, frowning, flawless face.

Which at the moment was showcasing the most pathetic set of wide brimmed chocolate brown puppy dog eyes he had ever seen.

Nope, he doesn’t like her at all. Not one freaking bit.

“Arthur, please. Just this one time-,”

He really hopes it isn’t just this one time.

“-and I won’t ask you again,”

But he wants her to ask him again. Again and again and _again_ -

“-I’ll find someone else next time-,”

The _hell_ she will.

“-I promise! Just…Arthur, will you help me or not?”

Her brown eyes grow even bigger and before he can retort a snarky response her bottom lip actually trembles and he nearly cries out loud to the heavens to stick a fork in him because he’s done. Finished. White Flag. Game Over.

Arthur drags a giant hand over his face as he swears up a storm, snatches up his keys, grabs the mocha girl’s hand, and hauls them out his front door.

“ **Fine** ,” he grits out through clenched teeth. “But only because it’s your **_damn_** birthday,”

Vega is a pleasant mix of shock and pride as Arthur pauses briefly by the welcome mat for her to slip on her coat and sneakers, then promptly continue their dramatic exit from the complex.

***

**Author's Note:**

> Just a Drabble, so it's very rough. Crit and kudos are always welcome :)


End file.
